


Please Pass the Salt

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Kitchen Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 22:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10475859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: After a long week at the office, Roy and Riza decide how to spend their weekend.





	

It had been a hard week.  The endless piles of paperwork the military seemed to churn out doubled when Falman and Braeda’s vacation times coincided with each other.  But it didn’t matter now.  Thanks to new laws concerning fraternization, Roy and Riza were living in the same home now, and they both wore civilian clothes and listened to the evening news over the radio in the kitchen; their own version of the Amestrian Dream.  Roy was looking over a small stack of bills as Riza chopped up vegetables to go into a stew she was making, leaning over the stove every now and then to check the meat searing in the bottom of the stock pot.

 _‘The weather forecast for the next three days is expected to be unseasonably cold and wet.  Temperatures will be in the middle forties with lows expected in the low thirties.  Looks like spring hasn’t quite sprung yet, folks!  Keep those winter coats handy!’_   Roy threw an irritated glance at the radio before returning his attention to the checkbook. 

“Damn weather.  Couldn’t it cooperate for just one weekend?” he grouched.

Riza continued slicing a carrot.  “The weather will get better.  It’s still early yet, sir.”  She gathered the little round, orange slices from her cutting board and tossed them into a strainer in the sink.  “After all, there are plenty of things that can be done indoors.”

A smirk bloomed on his face.  “Such as?”

“We could start painting in the living room, or maybe fix that leaky faucet in the bathroom for starters.”  She moved on to an onion.  “Or maybe we could finish unpacking everything…  Or maybe we-”

“Riza, you’re a workaholic and practical to a fault,” he crowed matter-of-factly.  He gave her a soft smile.  “And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled down at the onion as she mutilated it into diced pieces.  “Thank you, sir.”

“Hey now,” he chastised.  “That’s twice!  We agreed that when we’re home there’s no rank and no sir-ing me!”  He stood up and walked up behind her and wound an arm around her waist.  “You can call me Roy or you can call a cab,” he teased.

“I still have my gun on me, _Roy_.”

He laughed.  “Why does that not surprise me?”  He kissed the back of her ear and then at the side and nape of her neck.  “C’mon…  If we’re gonna spend all weekend indoors…  We should at least have a little fun…”  He nibbled at the skin of her shoulder before moving his hands to her hips.  Riza wasn’t sure when she’d leaned her head over to give him greater access to that soft place he seemed to be obsessed with, but she was very aware of a certain part of his body begging for attention when he pressed himself against her.

“Roy…  _Dinner?_ ” she said quietly, gesturing to the meal in progress. 

“I want dessert first,” he growled, reaching up with a sock clad foot and turning the burner on the stove off.  “Put that knife down…” he mumbled as one hand slid north and the other slid south.  While one hand kneaded and pinched her breast through the soft, warm flannel of one of his own shirts, the other slipped down under the waistband of a pair of army issued sweatpants and under the second, thinner waistband of satin panties, obviously intended for a later romp in their bed.  She felt his fingers dance over the close cropped trim of her ‘landing strip’ and nudged apart her outer lips…

Riza’s back arched, pressing her rounded ass into Roy’s burgeoning flesh and her shoulders into his chest.  The hand at her breast moved away, and she felt him fumbling behind her…  “You know, if you let me finish, we’ll have about an hour to play,” she suggested as she felt a particular appendage withdraw and then return with a less-shrouded definition.  She couldn’t help a hiss as he twiddled between her legs and ground against her.  You’d think after two months of living together some of the impetuousness of the situation would have died down, but it hadn’t at all.

“I want you now.”

“On the kitchen counter?” she asked in a disgusted tone.

“On the kitchen counter.”  He withdrew his hand from her clothing and spun her around, tugging the garments off while licking a desperate trail down her stomach.  She panted as he guided one bare foot and then the other out of her sweats and panties, flinging the garments blindly.  Roy knelt before her, lifting one leg to rest on his shoulder as he buried his face in her pinkness.

“Yessss, right there…” she groaned.  Her onion scented hands delved into his hair, holding him to her as he caressed her insides with that wicked tongue of his, licking and flicking and teasing her into a frothy mess.  His hands were warm on her body, the stubble of his face giving just the right sort of sting all over her folds, and that damned tongue…  He pulled her lips apart and attempted to lick the color from her flesh.  Riza trembled and shook and whimpered, but when he suckled on her swollen clit, her other knee buckled under the intensity of her orgasm, and Roy’s face held most of her weight as she thrashed over him.

He drank her fluids greedily as they dripped down from deep inside her, slurped until she was able to stand on her own again, and then he stood up, face glistening and eyes dark and hungry still.  “More,” he growled, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

“Yes, more…” Riza agreed.  She couldn’t sit on the counter because he wasn’t tall enough to pull that off.  But with her long legs locked around his hips, he slid into her as she held part of her weight on her elbows.  He pounded into her, the sound of the creaking cabinetry beneath her louder than the song on the radio.  Roy slowed his pace, bent over and ripped the buttons from her shirt with his teeth, then found and drew a rosy nipple into his mouth before resuming his punishing rhythm.  Riza panted his name, moaning and gasping as waves of pleasure raced through her body.

Riza watched as her lover looked between their bodies at the place they were joined, pulling all the way out and spearing back into her, over and over and over.  She made a request for him to go faster, harder, and he obliged without a word.  His hips were clapping against the cheeks of her ass, and she leaned her head back, crying out his name in different tones and pitches.  She felt his arms gather her up to his chest, slipping briefly out of her, then he helped her down and bent her over the kitchen table instead.

His left hand, the one that one day would bear a wedding ring, wound underneath her and found her sensitive little button and began pressing and pinching and teasing.  His right hand grabbed the bear shaped honey bottle that sat on the table next to the napkin holder and drizzled a tiny bit onto the puckered opening nestled between the cheeks of Riza’s healthy derriere. 

“Unng, please…” she hissed, knowing full well what he was planning…

Also on the table was something from Riza’s grandmother’s kitchen: miniature Xingese alabastron vases converted into salt and pepper shakers.  They were made of blown glass and sat in a special holder to keep them from falling over.  Mrs. Grumman had once told her they used to hold exotic perfume, but she probably never thought they could be used for anything perverted…

Not long after Roy and Riza had moved in together, they quickly found a new use for them, and so when Roy slipped the smooth, rounded end of the salt shaker into her rear passage and began pushing it in and out with the rhythm he was keeping deep inside her shivering cunt, Riza cried out to God and begged him not to stop.  He pushed the makeshift toy in up to the tiny handles, and then set a punishing pace to see them both to completion.

The table began scooting little by little toward the wall, but it was no concern to either of them.  Riza was _filled_ to the _brim_ in both holes and the pressure from the vase only heightened the experience for Roy.  Riza came, clamping down on her fiancé’s member and screaming his name.  But rather than let up his powerful thrusts, he only moved faster and deeper, chasing his own end.

“Come, Roy!!  Come for me, please!”

He went impossibly faster, almost there now.  “You want it?!” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Yes!! Give it all to me!!” she gasped, reaching back with one hand and pulling one of her cheeks back, letting him get a good clear look at that multicolored glass salt shaker moving so quickly in and out of her tight, tan opening.  “Damn, you’re gonna…  ahhh, make me come again!!”

She clenched hard around him, sobbing with pleasure, and it was enough to send him over the cliff.  Riza mentally gave herself a pat on the back once again for having the foresight to get that birth control prescription as Roy pumped sticky white ribbons into her womb.  They were both gasping for breath; she whimpered as her orgasm began to fade, and he grunted as he gave her the last of his seed.

He shivered inside her as he slid slowly out, so sensitive to the friction after his powerful climax and the cold air outside of her perfect body.  She felt him tug the salt shaker out with a wet _slurp_ and went to the sink to wash it clean.  Riza didn’t move, just laid across the table, wearing only the flannel shirt that she’d swiped out her fiancé’s closet and enjoying the high of being loved so thoroughly.  She felt the vibration of him putting the shaker back in its holder, then felt him pulling her cheeks apart and licking the honey from her body.  In the aftermath like this, it was soothing more than arousing, and it relaxed her even further as he swabbed the sweet sticky mess from her other entrance with his tongue.

After a while, he pulled back, giving her a soft pat on the rump.  “All clean.”  He helped her to stand up, then he knelt down and held her panties while she stepped into them, doing the same for her sweats.  Roy pulled her close into a bear hug and chuckled.  “I love fucking you in the kitchen.”

“We need some toys,” she murmured into his chest.  “We can’t keep using various objects for purposes they weren’t meant for.”

“You know the Xingese, everything doubles as a sex toy over there.”  He grinned as he kissed her and went back to the stack of bills not even two feet away from where he’d just wrecked Riza’s body.  Riza went to the sink and washed her hands, then turned the stove back on and went back to dicing the onion.  The music had ended and a comedy program was coming on.  Of course, Roy would make sure they were done by the time his favorite goofball came on: Duckie Dingus.  One bad joke after another rolled out of the speaker, and Roy chuckled at every one liner.

Riza cleared her throat.  “We still have to at least get some unpacking done, and I’d like you to fix that faucet.”

“What’ll you give me to do it?”  Of course.  Roy wasn’t going to give up his free time without some sort of equivalent exchange.

She tossed him a look over her shoulder as she poured in beef broth and slid the onions into the stock pot.  “Next time it could be you back there instead of the shaker…”

Wide, dark eyes met hers and he said, “Really?”  She smirked at him; a definite ‘yes’.  “Riza, if you promise that I can do that, I’ll unpack _everything_ AND fix the faucet.”

She giggled at that and said, “It’s a deal then.”  She decided to not pester him about painting the living room until next weekend.  


End file.
